


if you came this way

by CloudAtlas



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Meet-Cute, Mental Health Issues, Service Animals, Subways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAtlas/pseuds/CloudAtlas
Summary: Clint sees the same woman on the subway every Friday on his way to therapy.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 26
Kudos: 143
Collections: be_compromised Remix Exchange 2020





	if you came this way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Chance Encounters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123153) by [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie). 



> Written as part of the be_compromised Remix 2020. Beta's by **geckoholic** , who is a star. <3 Title from [Max Richter's Sleep](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_my04DUoWmrxtfRTWXSRCwbxhpOi6IoVNs).

The clack of the wheels on the rails and the rocking of the train are soothing, the motion as familiar as the weight of Lucky across his lap.

This is… week six of therapy? Clint’s fairly sure that’s right.

Lucky looks up at him from where he’s resignedly sitting in a modified IKEA bag. The rule that dogs have to be in carriers on the subway is really fucking annoying but man, Lucky looks cute. Clint ruffles one of Lucky’s ears and leans back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Therapy is… fine. Long overdue if he was honest with himself, which he’s trying to be, but it’s hard. Sometimes he just feels like crying all over Sam. Sometimes he feels like Sam had gone at his brain with a hot fork. Sometimes it just makes him _tired_. But he promised himself and Lucky and Kate he’d keep going, so that’s what he’s going to do.

His gaze catches on the woman sat opposite him, her blue mirrored Ray-Bans throwing his own reflection back at him. It was probably the blue that caught his eye – it was _very blue_ and Clint has problems with that colour for… reasons – but once he’s looking he can’t quite look away. She’s kinda ridiculously pretty – petite, red hair, distracting mouth – and wearing a cropped hoodie; a Nike-knockoff with the word ‘YIKES’ in bold capitals and the tick upside down.

Clint huffs out a laugh and Lucky looks at him, apparently concerned by the sound. Does he not laugh anymore?

“It’s okay, boy,” he says, ruffling Lucky’s ears again. “We’re okay.”

Week seven. The past week has been okay so Lucky is sat at Clint’s feet instead of over his lap and Clint’s paying slightly more attention to his surroundings. God, subway adverts are kinda terrible. ‘Beach body ready’? Way to make people feel insecure. And he’s fairly sure those Pastors are less concerned about his eternal soul and more concerned with the size of folks wallets. Urgh.

The train stops at the next station and Clint shuffles Lucky closer to his feet as more people climb onto the train, keeping an eye out in case he needs to stand for anyone.

The Yikes Woman is there again.

She’s not wearing her Yikes hoodie again this time but the blue Ray-Bans are still there, complementing the huge blue over-ear Beats headphones. Beats and Ray-Bans. If there’s money there, why by Nike knockoffs?

Though the whole Yikes thing _is_ pretty funny.

Her skin is pale like she’d usually be wearing make-up but isn’t today. She looks up and Clint looks away. He hates mirrored sunglasses. He can never tell where people are looking.

She’s got delicate ankles and legs like a dancer. God, he’s being weird.

Clint stares at Lucky until the woman gets off the train again.

The next Friday finds Clint standing. There had been an old Chinese woman – or maybe Japanese? Asian, Asian is probably better – with kind eyes and bad legs and no one else had stood up for her. What is wrong with people? Clint had gotten up almost immediately, but the poor lady had had to pass four seats before getting to his now-free one. One of the guys she had passed had been younger than Clint and wearing fucking awful, clearly designer, pants. Clint doesn’t want to be the type of person who talks about Kids These Days but _really_.

Lucky’s pressed against his legs, the IKEA bag crinkling. Clint needs to get something better. Lucky deserves better. Plus, Lucky is basically the reason Clint is a semi-functioning human being these days so – yeah, Lucky deserves better. Shame Clint’s broke as fuck.

The train stops, the doors opening. The gym bro to his left moves to get off, setting off a chain reaction of shuffling. The Subway Dance, Kate calls it. Clint wonders what’s going on today, to make the subway this busy. His appointments are at eleven a.m. specifically to avoid crowded subways.

The gym bro manages to shuffle out and, after a little pushing and shoving and a lot of long, careful breaths while staring at the ceiling, Clint finds himself almost pressed up against Yikes Woman. He’s not even sure when she got on the train. Surely they’re past her stop.

He’s tall enough to see down behind her mirrored Ray-Bans. It makes him feel like a creep so he looks away, not looking at her again for the entire journey. Not even when Lucky nudges her hand and she gives him a friendly pat.

The next week Clint is so tired he only just makes it on to the train and almost misses his stop getting off. It’s only because Lucky knows the route so well that he’s not late for his appointment.

Lucky’s basically a therapy dog at this point. Clint wonders if Sam could get a kinda… thing, for Lucky. To make it legit, so he doesn’t have to sit in an IKEA bag any more.

Yikes Women becomes Clint’s little subway secret. Not in a weird way – more like, he doesn’t really tell anyone about her. He mentioned the Yikes hoodie to Sam because he thought Sam would appreciate it, and also because it had cheered him up on an otherwise unremarkable Friday morning. But otherwise he doesn’t mention her, because there’s nothing much to mention really. So he sees the same women every Friday on his subway ride to therapy. So what? He sees the dude with the gold tooth every Monday when he goes grocery shopping and he doesn’t tell people about that guy either.

It’s just nice, having someone pretty to occasionally glance at every Friday morning.

Not that he’s seen her much recently. The last few weeks have been rough. His medication had been changed and it’s been leaving him feeling in turns groggy and exhausted. But on top of that, there had been a whole thing with his building that had been a headache to fix, even with Kate to help him out, so it had taken a while before he’d even realised that it was the meds making him feel like shit and not… everything else.

But he’s halfway to human today, with Lucky at his feet instead of his in his lap, so he’s basically fully in control of all his faculties when Yikes Woman gets on the subway in the most mind-blowing workout gear Clint has ever seen. The cropped leggings are more gauze than material and the sports bra has all these straps at the back that make all of her back muscles looks _amazing_. They’re both a forest green that sets off her red hair and she looks like she might even be wearing make-up today. Just a little, on her lips maybe? Clint tries not to stare, but the ubiquitous blue mirrored sunglasses make it really hard to tell where she’s looking.

God. He wonders what she does. Is she a yogi? A fitness instructor? A professional stepper-on-people-like-Clint? Fuck, he wishes. Clint looks at Lucky, because that’s safer.

He’s halfway to Sam’s office when he realises that if _he_ got mirrored sunglasses, he could stare at Yikes Woman as much as he likes and no one would know.

Clint grimaces to himself at the thought. Yikes indeed.

He breaks his streak about not talking about Yikes Woman to Sam later, though obliquely, when he asks, “Would it be creepy if I bought mirrored sunglasses so I can check out hot people on the subway without them knowing?”

It’s a simple yes/no question, so of course Sam asks, “Do you think people would be offended if you checked them out on the subway?” and then, to Clint’s vehement ‘yes’, “Why do you think that?” which turns into a long, painful examination of Clint’s shitty self-esteem.

He should have kept his mouth shut.

He doesn’t buy mirrored sunglasses though.

Apparently he has to wait another week or so before his medication can get properly sorted out. Something about his insurance? Or something? He’s not sure. It’s been slightly better since the whole building thing got worked out, but it’s not been _great_. He’s managed to do work, he’s looked after Lucky and he’s looked after himself, but everything leaves him feeling so utterly drained that getting out of bed in the morning is a fucking chore.

Weirdly enough, Yikes Woman looks like she’s in the same boat as him today. She’s not wearing her sunglasses this time, or her massive Beats headphones, and there’s a slump to her shoulders that looks out of place on her athletic frame. The gym bag she’s always carrying gets slung at her feet in a desultory manner, her enormous handbag (a new addition, not that Clint keeps track) gets dumped on the seat next to her as though she no longer has the energy to keep hold of it, and she sags into the seat like she can’t stand anymore, leaning back and closing her eyes. Clint feels pretty bad for thinking she’s still unreasonably attractive despite her obvious exhaustion.

However, as he can clearly see that her eyes are _closed_ today, Clint gives into his inner creep and takes a moment to actually look her over. To take in her oversized Brooklyn varsity jacket, her novelty racerback tank with the word ‘NO’ on it in all caps, her battered sneakers and her shapely calves. In fact, he’s so taken with her shapely calves – seriously, what does this woman _do_? She’s so fit and toned and, and _beautiful_ and now that he’s allowing himself to look he’s actually getting _more_ of a complex because _oh my god_ she’s so gorgeous and out of his league – that he completely fails to see the little face that pops up over the edge of her handbag until Lucky sits up in interest.

It’s a cat. A black cat. Poking its head out of Yikes Woman’s handbag.

Why… why is there a cat?

The cat sniffs at the edge of the handbag then pushes itself up until it’s swaying with the motion of the train. It fixes Clint with a curious stare before shifting its gaze to Lucky who is, unsurprisingly, thrilled. Thankfully he’s too well trained to just bound over to the cat, which Clint is eternally grateful for, but he does sit up and stretch forward as much as he’s able, sniffing excitedly.

Yikes Woman hasn’t moved. Clint’s suddenly worried she’s going to miss her stop or something. She seems to be _properly_ asleep.

The train starts to take a corner and the change in motion combined with the cat’s wriggle serves to tip the handbag into the empty seat it’s placed on. The cat scrambles upright, looking about as offended as one would expect a cat to look after that sort of indignity before glaring at the handbag. It then turns and tentatively begins to make its way towards the edge of the seat to where Lucky is, straining towards it and almost vibrating in doggy excitement, sniffing all the while.

Clint’s not sure what to do. Yikes Woman probably doesn’t want her cat to go missing but Clint’s equally unsure how she’d feel about being woken up by a random man on the subway.

Lucky and the cat are almost touching noses now. Lucky’s tail is bashing almost painfully against Clint’s leg while the cat looks mildly interested. Then, abruptly, the cat loses interest in Lucky and begins stalking down the subway seats towards the man at the other end.

“Shit,” Clint mutters, scrambling over Lucky and grabbing the cat before it can make any serious bids for freedom. Which means he’s now just stood in the middle of a subway car holding a cat. Great.

“Are you even supposed to be here?” he asks the cat, holding it up to his face. The cat stares placidly back, its legs swaying with the train. “I get the impression you’re not supposed to be here.” Yikes Woman definitely strikes him as the type of person who’d have a proper cat carrier.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the cat doesn’t answer. It just continues to look at him with that unnervingly direct, yellow-green gaze until Clint feels compelled to do literally _anything_ just to get away from it. Obviously, he needs to give the cat _back_ , but he’s not too sure how to go about it? For starters, Yikes Woman is _asleep_ , so he needs to wake her up. And then, Clint is six foot three. There is absolutely no way he’s not going to loom over her if he stays standing. And that’s… less than ideal.

He hesitates then sits back down in his seat, tucking the cat against his chest. He can’t do anything about having to wake Yikes Woman up, but at least he’s not looming now.

Lucky makes an attempt at climbing into his lap to say hello to his new cat friend.

“No, Lucky,” Clint says, pushing the dog away with his free hand. “Stay.”

Lucky gives him the most mournful look imaginable, but does as he’s told.

Okay, here goes nothing.

Bracing himself, Clint leans over and taps Yikes Woman on the knee.

Yikes Woman comes awake like she’s been electrocuted, looking around frantically to check the upcoming stop while her hand shoots out to check on her handbag – which is, of course, on its side with its contents spilling onto the seat.

“ _Fuck_.”

She scrabbles to get things bag into her handbag. She’s almost finished when she notices Clint sitting opposite her, holding a very limp black cat with both outstretched arms, its legs swaying with the motion of the train.

“Liho!” Yikes Woman exclaims, reaching for the cat. Her hands are small and soft and warm as they brush Clint’s, but he tries not to notice that. “What are you doing here?”

She gathers the cat – Liho, apparently – to her chest before turning wide eyes onto Clint.

“Um,” Clint says. “It crawled out of your bag?”

Yikes Woman blushes slightly and frowns down at the cat. “Really? I take you to see Alpine _one time_ , and now you want to abandon me?”

Liho mews are her, and she rolls her eyes in response. It makes Clint smile. She talks to her cat the same way he talks to Lucky.

“Thank you,” Yikes Woman says, looking up at him again. Her blush hasn’t faded and… she has green eyes. Clint’s never seen them before, because of the mirrored sunglasses, but wow. They’re – really pretty.

“Uh,” Clint replies, too late really. “You’re welcome?”

He has no idea why he makes it sounds like a question, but he doesn’t get a chance to remedy his stupidity because just then they pull into Yikes Woman’s usual stop and she jumps up with a string of expletives, dropping Liho the cat back into her handbag and rushing off the train.

Clint’s fairly sure both he and Lucky watch her leave with identical bereft expressions on their faces.

Liho the cat gets Clint through the weekend, but on Monday something flips a switch in Clint’s mind and the rest of the week is categorically horrible. On Wednesday, the only reason he even gets out of bed is because Lucky gives him the saddest eyes known to man. In fact, the only reason he manages to get anything done at all is because Lucky _looks_ at him. And also because on Wednesday night Kate comes round – _cancelling a fucking date_ – to gently bully him into calling Sam. And also to let him cry all over her. Maybe. Possibly.

It’s absolutely awful. He feels like his head is filled with peanut butter and screaming birds. His body is too heavy and, at the same time, so insubstantial his shadow seems to have more weight. He feels invisible and under a constant spotlight at the same time. He wants to claw his skin fucking off.

Clint makes it to therapy on Friday through sheer bloody mindedness; sitting in a corner seat with Lucky on his lap, ragged ballcap on his head and his face pushed into warm dog fur so he doesn’t have to look at anyone or anything. The idea of strangers seeing him like this makes his skin crawl but it’s not like there’s anything he can do about it; he doesn’t have money for a cab. He doesn’t even look up to see if Yikes Woman is there, or little Liho the cat (though that’s pretty unlikely, all things considered) and, while he’d love to flatter himself that the paranoid, being-looked-at feeling he’s got right now is actually Yikes Woman concerned for his wellbeing, he’s not that dumb. He’s a scruffy dude hugging a dog on the subway, anyone looking at him will fall into the category of ‘who the fuck is that weirdo?’

Lucky begins fussing, which means his stop must be coming up.

Clint gets off the subway with his head down. He sees nothing but feet the entire way to Sam’s.

Thank fuck his medication gets adjusted. Also, Lucky _officially_ becomes a support animal, so no more IKEA bag.

The next week is better. Not _brilliant_ – Clint has brilliant weeks about once every six months so he wasn’t expecting that – but definitely better. He goes to a couple of bookstores, buys himself some interesting looking sci-fi and also some romantic trash because Clint unashamedly loves romantic trash. He hangs out with Kate on Sunday, and with Carol and her wife and kid Tuesday evening. He even manages to go to the gym twice and Kate’s yoga class once. Sure, he cancelled meeting with Bobbi and Jess because Wednesday hit him all wrong, but he remembered all of Lucky’s walks without prompting and he even managed to get thirty pages of the document he’s editing done. He’s honestly never been so grateful to an employer as he is to Nick Fury and his ridiculously laid back copyediting team.

So by the time Friday comes around he’s in _much_ better spirits. Lucky’s by his feet, he’s not wearing a ballcap, and he has good things to tell Sam.

And then, one stop after he gets onto the subway, Yikes Woman gets on the train and sits down right next to him. There are other seats free, but she sits down _right next to him_. Clint only has about two seconds to freak out about this before Yikes Woman pulls Liho the cat from her bag and places it – him? Her? – on her lap.

Then she looks up at him and says, “Hi.”

Clint looks at Yikes Woman, then at Liho the cat, then at Lucky, as if Lucky can explain why the very attractive woman with the cute cat is suddenly talking to him on the subway.

“Hi,” Clint says eventually, too late for it to sound natural.

“I’m Natasha,” says Yikes Woman, “and this is Liho.”

Lucky sniffs at Liho, straining to reach the cat without actually moving from where he’s sat between Clint’s legs.

“Um, I know?” Clint says. And then, “About Liho! You – you said it… last time.”

They stare at each other, the only sound the clack of the train on the lines.

“I’m Clint,” Clint blurts out eventually. “And this is Lucky.”

There’s a charming blush staining Yikes Woman’s – sorry, _Natasha's_ – cheeks, and her eyes dart this way and that before settling back on Clint’s face.

“Do you want to get coffee?” Yikes – no, _Natasha_ asks.

Clint nearly chokes on air. “With me?” he asks, incredulously.

“Yes,” Natasha replies, still blushing but with a nod of determination. “With you.”

Clint hesitates. “You?” he says eventually, because apparently he can only speak in single syllable words now.

Natasha smiles. It’s the kind of smile that means _you are being incredibly cute right now_ , and Clint only recognisees it because he’s seen it on TV. The women are usually looking at someone like Matt Bomer or Michael B Jordan when they’re using it though, not Human Disaster Clint Barton. Lucky huffs like he can tell Clint’s thinking badly of himself and Clint pets his ears. Lucky is a good dog.

“Yes,” she says. “Me.”

Clint stares at her some more. She’s… really very pretty.

“Are you… sure?” he says eventually because it’s just… so unlikely. Clint’s a mess. Like, a complete, certified mess. He has a therapist. He can’t go anywhere without his dog. Sometimes he doesn’t speak to another human being for days at a time because he just _can’t_. Hot women in athletic wear who look like they have their life together don’t ask guys like him for coffee. _Especially_ when they’ve only ever seen each other once a week at fifteen minute intervals on their subway commute.

Clint reads trashy romance, okay? He _knows_ this isn’t a thing.

“I might have, um,” Natasha looks down at Liho the cat, stroking a hand down its back, “annoyed my friend by talking about the Cute subway Guy too much. I might have, _maybe_ , bought mirrored sunglasses so I could… check him out.” She flicks her gaze to meet his, and then away again. Her blush is furious, but she determinedly continues. “And I might have, perhaps, brought my cat with me today as moral support.”

Liho the cat mews. Lucky looks up at him from where his head is resting on Clint’s knee, as if to say _See? Other people rely on their pets for support too. We’re not that weird._

“I’m not Matt Bomer,” Clint blurts out, because he’s stuck on that strange fond look she’s still giving him through all that blush.

Well, it’s gone now. Now she just looks confused. “I know?”

“It’s just; people tend to look at guys like Matt Bomer like that. Not… not me.”

Natasha smiles again. “He’s not really my type,” she says. “Also, he’s gay.”

“He is?” Clint says, curious. Though now she mentions it, perhaps Kate said something along those lines once. It’s the kind of thing she’d know.

“Yeah, he is.” Liho climbs up to rub her head against Natasha's chin. “So, coffee?”

“I – okay.”

Natasha grins. Clint’s not sure he’s been on the receiving end of a grin like that _ever_. No one’s ever that pleased when talking to him. It makes him feel weightless and unmoored, but in a good way.

“Yeah?” she replies.

Clint gives her a helpless smile. “Yeah.”

“Amazing,” she says, and she looks so happy Clint can barely meet her eyes. But then he does, and is caught, and they sort of just stare at each other for a while like fucking dumbasses.

The train pulls into a station, the motion causing them to break eye contact, and Clint casts around, blushing like the entire traincar will be able to see the ridiculous meet-cute that’s happening to him. He glances up as people shuffle off the train, his gaze catching on the station name and starting slightly.

“Hey,” he says to Natasha, “it’s your stop.”

“What?” She whips her head around to look and then curses. “Fuck. Shit. _Liho_.” She grabs her cat and unceremoniously dumps it into her bag again, standing and gathering her things. The doors begin to beep, signalling their imminent closure, and Natasha all but _throws_ a business card at him, calling a frantic, “Call me!” over her shoulder as she slides through the closing doors and onto the platform.

Clint holds her gaze through the window as the train pulls away, like a character in some tragic romance movie, before picking the business card off the floor.

 _RED ROOM THEATER_ it says on one side. And _NATASHA ROMANOV, DANCER & CHOREOGRAPHER_ it says on the other, contact details printed neatly underneath.

Clint stares at it for a long moment before tucking it into his pocket.

Wow. He has _a lot_ of good things to mention to Sam today.

**Author's Note:**

> [Natasha's business card](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/franztastisch/8283776/42397/42397_900.png), because I was bored. Also, one day on the Subway, Clint passes [this](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/franztastisch/8283776/42615/42615_900.jpg) advert (based on the _great_ [adverts done by Sadler's Wells](https://effectivedesign.org.uk/winners/2018/media/sadlers-wells) and [artwork by Audrey Mok](https://temariart.tumblr.com/post/154033284770/black-widow)) and literally stops dead. People walk into his back and everything.
> 
> Yikes hoodie as an idea was [nabbed from silentwalrus1](https://silentwalrus1.tumblr.com/post/185418763718/silentwalrus1rohkeutta-the-yikesness-continues), though they have it as shoes and I think it was from somewhere in [Bucky Barnes Gets His Groove Back & Other International Incidents](https://archiveofourown.org/series/429256). Anyway, you don't quite understand how much I want a Yikes hoodie. I might make one.


End file.
